Quest: The Search for the Eletale Book
by Lord Siravant
Summary: An in-depth novelization of the Quest 64 game, shedding new light on the characters and backstory which was sorely lacking in both the original and its remake. The Eletale Book has been stolen, and Brian's father has gone missing while searching for it. It is up to the master apprentice to brave the dangers of Celtland with the help of various allies. T for swearing and violence.


**I grew up with the game Quest 64 in my youth. It didn't matter that there wasn't much plot to it: I still enjoyed it. But now I feel that it is time to weave this Excuse Plot game into a sprawling epic and turn this into the legendary tale it could have been. Enjoy.**

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**Chapter One: The Day of Grief**

_Celtland was an ancient land, a large continent surrounded by oceans and teeming with magical energies. All across Celtland, humans arose who had the power to bend these magical energies to their will through pacts made with the four ancient guardian spirits of Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind. These "Spirit Tamers", as they were called, eventually gathered together and established a monastery, where pilgrims and peasants could pay homage to the four spirits who assured them bountiful harvests and good health, and the Tamers could pass their teachings onto younger apprentices. The three realms, Dondoran, Carmagh, and Highland all shared a deep bond of trustworthiness and brotherhood._

_But it was not always this way._

_Legends say there was an ulterior motive behind the founding of the Melrode Monastery. Deep within its confines, it was said an ancient book was locked away. This book held untold power and knowledge over all the ancient magics. Those who possessed it had power unmatched by any Spirit Tamer. However, those who let greed into their hearts were immediately doomed, for their tainted hearts were not worthy of controlling the book's awesome might. It was known as the Eletale Book, and a thousand years prior, it was the catalyst for a truly awful series of events that were burned forever into the pages of history._

_These events came to be known as the Day of Grief. An ancient, powerful demon named Mammon rose from the depths of the void and entered the holy realm of Celtland, bringing with him the Eletale Book. By relinquishing the Eletale Book to the human race, he festered greed and sin within their hearts, and the people fought violent, bloody battles for possession of the book while Mammon fed from their negative energies._

_As the land further descended into anarchy, Celtland itself began to wither. Entire crops perished overnight. Once-peaceful and serene woods became infested with savage creatures. Lush valleys became barren deserts._

_Only the Spirit Tamers, the purest-hearted of all mortals, had the strength to stand against the growing tides of evil. With the aid of the immortal magician Epona and the four elemental spirits, the Spirit Tamers fought back and eventually sealed away Mammon's wicked spirit using four sacred gems housing the spirits' power._

_But the Eletale Book remained._

_Attempts to destroy it were unsuccessful. No fire could blacken its pages, no water could blur the ink, no amount of strength could tear the pages apart._

_Realizing the book could not be destroyed, the Spirit Tamers allegedly hid it within the Melrode Monastery, where it has since been presumed safe._

'_Presumed' being the key word._

-XXX-

A pair of cloaked figures quietly approached the front doors of the imposing Monastery. Looking upon it, the more bestial shape cringed in bitter hatred at the sight. The smaller, feminine figure turned her head towards her beastly companion. "What's the matter, Guilty?" she stated flatly. "Having second thoughts?"

"Bah!" Guilty hoarsely grunted. "I do not have second thoughts when I carry out the master's orders! Do not doubt my loyalty, puppet!"

The female said nothing in reply, instead choosing to scope out the scene ahead. Standing guard by the door of the Monastery was a young, blue-clad soldier calmly pacing about, staring ahead into the beautiful night sky. Guilty snorted quietly in amusement. "Puny human. There's only one; he will be easy to dispose of."

"Wait a moment," the female commanded in a hushed whisper. "Before you go barging in there, think for a moment. Your lumbering approach would give him just enough time to raise the alarm, you dull-witted brute."

"What do you want me to do, stride up to him and engage him in idle conversation?"

"No, actually that's what _I'm _going to do. Wait here."

Guilty growled in irritation but stayed hidden as the woman approached the guard, who straightened up at her presence. "Who goes there?" the soldier demanded.

"Just a wandering traveler," the woman replied, "searching the world over for handsome men who happen to catch my eye. And you, handsome, have just become a lucky man."

The soldier's face reddened in embarrassment as the woman came uncomfortably close to him. From his hiding spot, Guilty scoffed in disgust. Humans were too vulnerable to their lust. "I...I-I, ah..." the soldier stuttered nervously, his eyes shifting about.

Under her hood, the woman smiled. "Do not be afraid of me. Tell me your name, stranger."

"I...I'm M-Marmaduke, m-m-ma'am," the soldier nervously replied.

"Then you shall sleep well tonight, Marmaduke," the woman spoke, reaching towards his neck with one delicate hand as if to embrace him in a passionate kiss.

But instead of engaging in a moment of intimate passion, the woman's fingers pinched tightly on a nerve in Marmaduke's neck. The young man didn't even have time to comprehend what had just happened before he dropped to the ground, unconscious. The threat removed for the time being, Guilty emerged from his hiding place and loped over to his sultry companion, glancing down at Marmaduke's unmoving body with a look of disdain. "You could have just as easily killed him," he pointed out contemptuously.

"He will better serve our cause alive," the woman replied. "Now let us hurry."

The woman creaked open the door and peered down the darkened hall, where the sermons were usually held. No one was around. The woman ushered Guilty inside, the monstrous being glaring hatefully at his surroundings. The woman strode over to the altar, Guilty slowly accompanying her. A golden candlestick sat unlit upon the altar. After a moment of scrutinizing it, the woman tugged the candlestick towards her, revealing it to be a lever as the altar began to move forward, revealing a hidden staircase that led into the bowels of the Monastery. The woman looked up at Guilty. "Someone's bound to have heard that," she said. "Keep an eye out while I retrieve the book. No one must interfere."

Guilty irritably grunted in acknowledgement. No sooner had the woman descended down the staircase when a door on the right side of the great hall directly behind the pews burst open. A man dressed in his night clothes strode out the door, having heard the noise and come to investigate. His hair was dark brown, and he sported a finely-trimmed mustache and a strong, muscular physique borne of years of experience. Guilty took immediate notice of the gnarled willow staff in his hands and sneered; he was a Spirit Tamer.

"Who goes there?!" the man demanded, brandishing his staff threateningly. "Explain your intrusion, in the name of the four spirits!"

Guilty laughed savagely as he threw off his cloak, revealing him for the true monster he was: hard, rough skin a bloody shade of red; long white hair cascading down his hunched back; yellow eyes burning with malevolent fervor; long white fangs protruding upward from his bottom jaw; tattered, dark-green robes that exposed most of his upper chest; and long, muscular arms with huge hands tipped with razor-sharp claws. "Gehehehe, I am Guilty," the repulsive beast answered in a growling voice. "A messenger of sin. If you believe yourself my equal, come to me and face death itself, Spirit Tamer!"

"Begone from this holy sanctuary, demon! I, Lord Bartholomy, will purge this place of your presence!" the Tamer bellowed, bringing his staff about in preparation to cast a spell.

Guilty leapt for him like a wild beast, his clawed hands outstretched. Bartholomy strafed out of the way to avoid the beast's attack and cried, "Fire Arrow!"

A series of barbs of flame lanced out of Bartholomy's staff, hitting Guilty squarely in the chest. Guilty stumbled back slightly but quickly regained his bearings. The monster stretched his arms out, a series of energy shards appearing around Bartholomy. The Spirit Tamer jumped back as the energy claws shredded the air where he had just been.

Thinking quickly, Bartholomy waved his staff again. "Wind Cutter!"

Razor-sharp blades of wind energy sliced into Guilty's muscular frame, but the fiend took them all with barely a flinch. They were unable to cut very deep; this demon was resistant to magic, it seemed. Guilty laughed coldly. "Foolish Spirit Tamer! You think your petty magic can harm a being of my caliber?! HA!"

Bartholomy opted for another approach, waving his staff once more as he cried, "Wind Walk!"

Suddenly the Tamer began to move twice as fast, nearly a blur to Guilty's eyes. But the beast's mind, while savage, was still clever, and he knew that even if he could not hit the man for the moment, his spell would soon wear off. But Bartholomy was wise to Guilty's tricks, and as the vile beast moved to avoid him, Bartholomy adjusted his aim and sent the head of his staff crashing into Guilty's unprotected back, sending him skidding across the floor. Guilty seethed in fury as he leapt back to his feet. "Wretched human!" he raged, slashing with dark claws.

Bartholomy easily avoided Guilty's sluggish attack and struck him once more in the back, sending the creature to his knees. At that moment, the woman emerged from the staircase, an ancient tome tucked under her arm. "I have it!" she proclaimed.

"What?!" Bartholomy cried, turning around to face her. "No!"

Guilty immediately took advantage of the Spirit Tamer's moment of distraction and slammed his fist into the ground, a wave of fiery energy rising up all around him. Bartholomy yelled in pain as the force of the energy flung him hard against the wall, where he collapsed to the floor, knocked clean out. It was only due to the Spirit Tamer's great strength that he hadn't been immediately killed upon impact. "Let's get out of here! Now!" the woman commanded, running towards the door.

Guilty, reluctant to leave his opponent alive, growled angrily as he took off after her. As they bounded out the door, Marmaduke began to regain consciousness, noticing the woman escaping with her companion. "Wha-?" he groaned.

The larger figure turned his head, allowing Marmaduke to gaze upon the hideous face of Guilty. Marmaduke immediately fell back into a dead faint. Without another word, the two thieves disappeared into the night with their prize.

After a thousand years of peace, the Eletale Book had been stolen.

-XXX-

_The next morning_...

The Monastery was in a riot come morning. An air of panic dominated the atmosphere. Nobody could believe that the Eletale Book had been stolen away right out from under their nose. Gossip spread like wildfire throughout the Monastery and the village of Melrode below the hill that a woman accompanied by a wicked demon had boldly invaded the Monastery's inner sanctum and stolen the eldritch tome.

Bartholomy was not at all pleased with what had happened. The book had been under his watch, and yet the thieves had still managed to succeed. He should have known the demon wasn't acting alone; he had just been a distraction to ensure that the woman wasn't apprehended before she could get the book. The Spirit Tamer sat in one of the pews, his chin resting in one hand as he gazed at the windows of the Monastery, deep in thought as the rest of the church frantically scurried about doing who-knows-what. He had just finished talking with the Grand Abbot, and his description of the beast who called himself 'Guilty' troubled the old man immensely. Such a creature had not been seen walking this earth since the Day of Grief.

Bartholomy shuddered at the thought of that unspeakable tragedy. With the book gone, and in evil hands, there would surely be another Day of Grief were nothing done about it. He could not allow that to happen.

"Father!"

Bartholomy jolted slightly at the sound of his son's voice. The Tamer looked to see a fourteen-year-old boy approaching him, clad in the attire of a Spirit Tamer's apprentice. A lock of the boy's hair stood straight up in the center of his scalp, resembling a quail's feather. Bartholomy beamed at the sight of his son. "Brian, my boy!" he greeted, forcing a hearty smile.

"Father, what's going on?" Brian asked, frowning. "Has the Eletale Book really been stolen?"

Straight to the point, as always. Bartholomy sighed and ceased smiling. "Yes, I'm afraid it has, Brian. Last night a woman and a demon came and escaped with it. I tried to stop them, but..."

The Tamer clenched his fist in frustration. Brian put a comforting hand on his father's arm. "No one blames you, father. You did what you could."

"The ones who stole it cannot be allowed to utilize the book's power," Bartholomy replied grimly. "It will be the end of all we know. I have to go after them."

"Then take me with you, father," Brian pleaded. "Garm and I can be a big help to you!"

Bartholomy chuckled lightly, ruffling his son's hair. "Eager to prove yourself as always, eh? I appreciate the offer, but I think it best for me to do this on my own."

Brian's pleading look brought pain to his father's heart, but he maintained his resolve. "You have so much potential within you. You proved that to me and the Abbot when you tamed Garm that day two years ago. But your skills need to be refined before you can become a true Spirit Tamer, Brian. You are not yet ready for the many trials of the world."

"But, father, what if something happens to you?" Brian asked.

"I will write to you all whenever I can," Bartholomy answered. "Hone your skills in my absence. If I have not sent a letter in more than a month, then I have granted the Abbot permission to send you after my sorry hide."

Father and son shared a laugh. "You can count on it, father!" Brian said.

At that moment, one of the monks came up to them and said, "Lord Bartholomy, your horse is ready."

Bartholomy sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, dismissing the monk. "Well, time for me to take my leave, Brian," he spoke, standing up. "Just remember, hone your skills as often as you can, and if you don't hear from me in a month, search for me. If, spirits forbid, I meet my demise on my travels, I entrust you to find the book in my place."

Brian nodded his head. "I will, father. Safe travels."

Bartholomy wrapped his son in a hug. "I love you, son."

"I love you too," Brian responded, willing himself not to cry as reveled in what might be his father's last embrace.

Bartholomy patted Brian's back before breaking the hug. "May the spirits watch over us both," he bade before heading towards the Monastery doors.

Brian looked on with watery eyes as his father gave him one last proud smile before he exited the Monastery to begin his journey.

-XXX-

_One and a half months later_...

Brian awoke with a start from a particularly horrifying nightmare. As he sat up in bed, panting, he tried to recall the events in his mind. All he could seem to remember was a distant, echoing laugh brimming with evil intentions. Brian glanced up at the window and saw the morning sunlight streaming through. Sighing, the young boy got out of bed and put on his undershirt so he wouldn't have to venture shirtless out into the halls of the Monastery. He didn't really appreciate the giggles he received whenever any of the females, especially the younger ones, caught a glimpse of his bare chest anymore.

With his chest sufficiently covered, Brian walked out of his room and headed towards the main hall, where Marmaduke was keeping watch. The young soldier wasn't quite the same after that night. He was warier of his surroundings and became rather edgy whenever any of the girls tried to make advances on him. Brian walked up to him and asked, "Anything today, Marmaduke?"

Marmaduke frowned. "I'm afraid not, Brian. The last letter Lord Bartholomy sent was before he sailed across Loch Kilderey to Larapool a month ago."

A feeling of utter dread trailed down Brian's spine and settled behind his navel. "It's been a month...and no news."

"Brian...I know what you're thinking," Marmaduke said, "but you know about how dangerous it is on the roads these days. Monsters are everywhere, and Garm can't protect you from all of them."

"I have to do _something_!" Brian retorted. "My father has gone missing trying to find a book that could _destroy our entire world _if it isn't recovered, and I'll be damned if I don't keep my promise to go find him!"

Marmaduke hung his head. "You're right...I have no right to stand in your way. But at least talk to the Grand Abbot before you go."

Brian nodded before returning to his room to fully dress himself, fitting his sky-blue tunic over his undershirt, pulling on his leggings and buckling them around his waist, putting on his brown traveling boots, and fitting his red cloak around his neck. Satisfied with his appearance, Brian grabbed his magician's staff, carved just like his father's, only smaller to accommodate his size, and headed towards the Grand Abbot's personal chamber.

As Brian ventured towards the door that led to the stairwell to the Abbot's personal chambers, a sinister lupine shape bounded towards him from down the other side of the hall, startling a pair of servant girls as it padded past them. Brian turned to see the lanky form of a wolf-like creature bearing down on him, its poison-violet fur bristling as steam trailed out of its nostrils. But instead of leaping upon the boy to tear out his throat, the beast skidded to a halt and barked in greeting. The animal was almost as tall as Brian himself.

Brian smiled at his Hell Hound companion and scratched its head. "Morning, Garm."

Garm whined in response as he wagged his bushy tail. Brian could still vividly remember the day he met Garm. While returning from an errand in Dondoran Castle Town, he and his father had stumbled across a Hell Hound that had been injured in a fight with a Big Mouth, a species of crocodile that occasionally wandered around the Holy Plain. His father had wanted to put it out of its misery, but Brian had insisted they try to save it. Somehow, and this was something even Brian himself couldn't explain, upon stroking the normally-savage beast's fur as his father set to work healing its wounds, it had calmed down considerably and had started licking his hand like an excited puppy. His father was shocked; no one had ever tamed one of the wild monsters so quickly before. Garm hadn't left Brian's side since.

With Garm at his heel, Brian ascended the staircase, passing through the library midway up the tower before they reached the top. Brian walked into the room, where a hunchbacked old man with long, gray hair and a beard dressed in the attire of a high-ranking holy man sat praying at an altar. Without looking at the visitor, the Grand Abbot spoke, "I know why you have come, Master Brian."

Brian said nothing.

"Your father has not written in over a month," the Abbot continued. "You have visited me in hopes that I will allow you to search for him yourself."

Brian nodded. "I can't rest easy until I know where he is."

The Grand Abbot slowly turned around to face Brian. "Your father told me you had every right to do so should this come to pass. Even so, are you sure you wish to go through with it?"

"I must," Brian answered resolutely. "If necessary, I may have to bring back the book myself if he…"

The boy couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. Garm rubbed his muzzle against Brian's hand to comfort him. "Do not fear," the Abbot said. "I doubt your father is dead. He is one of the finest Spirit Tamers in our order, and he wouldn't go out without kicking and screaming loud enough for all of Celtland to hear, eh?"

The old man chuckled, while Brian just faintly smiled. "All that aside," the Abbot continued, "remember that you are still an apprentice. Though your skills have improved astoundingly over the last month and a half, you are still a child, and the world has become a very dangerous place. Do you feel up to it?"

Brian nodded. "I do."

The Abbot smiled. "Very well. I highly suggest you go to Dondoran Castle first before you progress. King Scottfort has sent me a letter asking for the Monastery's help with a most pressing matter. He has not said what. So I ask that you see what it is he wants before you make the crossing to Larapool."

"I understand, Your Holiness," Brian assured.

"Now go. Time is of the essence."

Brian inclined his head and turned to leave, but stopped as the Grand Abbot said, "Before you leave, Brian, know this: the spirits are watching over you. If you can find them, they will surely aid you and whatever companions follow you. Farewell, Master Brian, and good luck."

"Thank you, Your Holiness," Brian responded. "Farewell."

-XXX-

Brian, with a satchel of dried meat, fresh bread, a coinpurse with some money inside, and a flask of water at his side, strode out of the ponderous doors of the Monastery to begin his journey. Garm loyally stayed at his side, matching his pace as they walked down the large hill towards the town. At the base of the hill, a large wall separated the Monastery road from Melrode, with a large, ornate door in the center. Brian tapped it with his scepter, opening it and revealing the quaint village of Melrode.

Six houses were situated around a paved road, as well as an inn and a shop. A sheep farm was situated on the other side of the small valley. On the right side of the town was the shoreline of the endless ocean that surrounded the continent. Garm sneezed, a small plume of fire escaping his nostrils; that hound's nose did not tolerate pollen very well. "Let's go, boy," Brian bade, heading into town.

Various townspeople stopped to wave at him as he passed, heading towards the shop. The apprentice walked into the shop up to the counter while Garm waited outside. "Aye, young lad," the store clerk greeted. "What can I do for ye?"

"I'd like a pair of White Wings, please," Brian said, digging out his coinpurse.

"Of course, laddie," the clerk answered, fishing a pair of white-feathered wings out of a basket. "Ten gold."

Brian laid ten gold coins on the table as the clerk handed him the White Wings. This strange item was a pair of wings that could take him back to Melrode instantly no matter where he was in the world. Each town in Celtland had their own differently-colored versions, making travel much swifter and easier between the three kingdoms. "Thank you, sir," Brian said.

"Just remember, lad," the clerk interrupted. "Wings will not work in caves, buildings, or thick forests. They need wide open spaces. Good luck, laddie!"

Brian nodded his head in thanks before heading out the door, where Garm patiently waited, staring longingly at the tasty-looking sheep grazing in the field on the farm. "C'mon, Garm," Brian said, scratching the Hell Hound's head, "before you get any ideas."

Garm whined in protest but obediently followed the master apprentice as they headed towards the town gate. Brian slowed his gait somewhat in trepidation, remembering the rumors that the monsters had been appearing with greater frequency on the roads. Brian was afraid; there was no use denying that. But his father was somewhere out there. So was the Eletale Book. And as long as he did nothing, the whole world was in danger.

Brian sucked in his breath to steel his nerves, creaked open the ponderous door, and entered the world beyond.


End file.
